“I Know It Must Be a Skeleton:” Gothic Defense and Delight in Northanger Abbey
Haunted castles, secret panels, lurking danger, dark secrets and the literary convenience of a sudden gust of wind to blow out a candle: all of these are traits and tropes of the Gothic, whose atmosphere and tactics are still utilized today to emphasize mood and heighten tension, yet are just as often the subject of knowing parody, sometimes regarded as silly, over-imaginative or ridiculous to dwell on. Both the positives and negatives of the Gothic are explored in Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey, its heroine Catherine Morland stumbling through romantic delusions and naivety as she moves from the social atmosphere of Bath to the novel’s namesake Abbey. It is here that Austen displays her understanding of the genre, and here are raised some critical questions about her intent with the Gothic parody – is it meant to be a tribute to the idioms of the Gothic, or a commentary on the frivolity of the genre?
The broader critical analysis of the novel has shifted over time from one viewpoint to the other and back again. Sometimes cited as a didactic parody to demean the Gothic narrative, to point out all the flaws and shortcomings of writers like Walpole and Radcliffe, Northanger Abbey is more akin to a loving tribute that gently pokes fun at some Gothic tropes while making effective use of others. As Natasha Duquette notes, “in recent decades, many critics have placed Austen's novels in fruitful dialogue with the work of her Romantic contemporaries. This new direction in Austen studies challenges the earlier view of Austen as a wry rationalist raising an arch eyebrow at the excesses of Romantic aesthetics.” Austen’s work proves she is indeed familiar with the genre, and a closer look at the novel’s key moments where Gothic elements are employed illustrates an understanding of the effectiveness of such narratives, while likewise planting inside jokes and references that a reader of Gothic novels at the time would understand. But more importantly, it is meaningful to look at Catherine Morland herself and understand how Austen’s use of the Gothic relates to a young reader akin to her heroine, how her own impressions are shaped by the fiction she reads and how her limited understanding and fertile imagination influence and contribute to the overall affect of the parody.
From the novel’s onset, Austen sets out to explore and subvert various aspects of the Gothic novel, giving her knowing readers a humorous understanding of things to come. The first lines of the novel say as much on their own: “No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine” (5). In a nudge to those familiar with the Gothic, who typically find a heroine rendered beautiful, intelligent and dramatically orphaned, Austen sets the stage with her naïve, plain and mundanely-birthed Catherine Morland, telling her readers that they will be getting a subverted version of the Gothic tale, Catherine herself becoming ironically enamored with the very sort of fiction her character is subverting.
For Catherine, new to the world outside of her small village and introduced to the whirl of social activity in Bath, everything has a sense of newness and wonder. Under the care of the Allens she has a chance to experience society just above her normal means, a form of escapism on one hand, and for the first time in her life is making acquaintances beyond her siblings. Inexperienced as Catherine is, it’s importanr to note how she is influenced by the two female friends she makes, Isabella Thorpe and Eleanor Tilney. The former eventually proves to be little more than a self-absorbed woman, using her friendship with Catherine as merely a distraction. And while she might genuinely care for Catherine, she cares more about her own interests and guides conversations to relate back to her own concerns. Their common connection, a love of novels, is used by Isabella to promote her favorite genre of literature: the Gothic.
Quite strikingly different is how Eleanor Tilney relates to Catherine, in a friendship that evolves and benefits both women over time. “Eleanor's loyal friendship with Catherine sets her apart from the false Isabella. “The sincere and reciprocal friendship between Eleanor and Catherine in Northanger Abbey takes Radcliffean repose to a new level. Unlike Radcliffe, Austen is able to envision a true friendship of equity and respect between two women” (Duquette). Eleanor is soft-spoken and unconcerned with the fancies that Isabella so indulges in, and Catherine as well; during their Beechen Cliff excursion, when Catherine casually mentions that she has heard “that something very shocking indeed, will soon come out of London,” Eleanor mistakes this for talk of an impending riot, while Catherine is merely speaking of an upcoming Gothic novel, to which Henry Tilney is lead to make them understand each other in a humorous moment that nevertheless foreshadows future troubles in the novel (77)
However, Catherine still finds a sense of yet further escapism, and also a familiar link to her reading habits at home, in the Gothic, aided by Isabella in discovering the joys of Anne Radcliffe’s Mysteries of Udolpho, a novel cited again and again during the course of Catherine’s journey. “Oh! I am delighted with the book,” she tells Isabella excitedly. “I should like to spend my whole life in reading it. I assure you, if it had not been to meet you, I would not have come away from it for all the world" (24). Catherine rapidly becomes a fan, Isabella both promoting and encouraging her reading novels of a purely Gothic description, feeding Catherine’s fancy; having experienced monotony for so long, coupled with all the fresh sights and affairs of Bath and her first real adult friends, Catherine is swallowed up by the simple joys of reading and discussing reading with peers.
While it is generally accepted that Austen had Radcliffe’s works in mind when writing Northanger Abbey, there is another detail here that alludes to Austen’s understanding of the broader Gothic range; a small but significant detail, brought up when Isabella lists the names of several novels that Catherine should read after Udolpho: “Castle of Wolfenbach, Clermont, Mysterious Warnings, Necromancer of the Black Forest, Midnight Bell, Orphan of the Rhine, and Horrid Mysteries” (24). Tenille Nowak, in her essay examining these novels, draws attention to the work of Michel Sadler, who brought the seven “horrid novels” referenced in Northanger Abbey to light with his own text and “concluded that Northanger Abbey parodied the Gothic genre but also subtly acknowledged its tropes and gave tribute to the talents of its writers.” Nowak herself proposes “that Austen’s selection focused not on the books’ titles or on their ability to represent particular Gothic niches, but rather on the inherent values and merits she discovered in each text.”
Yet Catherine’s growing attachment to these “horrid novels” is one of her primary faults, and Austen’s recognition of Gothic merits does not stymie her intent to show how one’s fancies can run unchecked if allowed unrestrained or unfocused reading. Much like the overly-hysterical “fangirls” of the modern-day Twilight series of books – dark romances involving the supernatural and fantastical – there were concerns at the time of overindulgence into Gothic literature. “Jane Austen was concerned that the avid readers of ghost stories might let their imaginations become carried away to the point of confusing Gothic flights of fancy with modern, prosaic reality,” and “Austen's bumbling heroine… at times misinterprets the real world due to her obsession with romantic adventure tales” (Duquette).
It is not surprising, given Catherine’s limited experience that she lets her imagination get the best of her when she engrosses herself in her reading and derives so much pleasure from only Gothic novels, and unfortunately this builds on Catherine as the novel progresses. Catherine begins to yearn for things to happen that are out of the ordinary; when she is inadvertently “abducted” by the incorrigible John Thorpe to ride out to Blaize Castle rather than let her walk with the Tilneys (making another moment of parody of the Gothic heroine kidnapped and taken in a carriage against her will), Catherine’s only comfort for the trip comes in imagining what she might find there, informed by scenes from Udolpho and others – “the happiness of a progress through a long suite of lofty rooms, exhibiting the remains of magnificent furniture, though now for many years deserted - the happiness of being stopped in their way along narrow, winding vaults, by a low, grated door; or even having their lamp, their only lamp, extinguished by a sudden gust of wind, and of being left in total darkness” (59). This, however, is just the beginning of a series of mishaps and misjudgments on Catherine’s part that both impart the message of succumbing to the whimsical mind and further the aim of the parody.
The turning point in the story, and where Catherine begins to truly fall under the influence of her own imagination, is when she leaves Bath in the company of the Tilenys, bound for Northanger Abbey. Henry Tilney, perhaps not recognizing how easily influenced Catherine’s fancies are, and how much she both trusts and respects his opinions, amuses himself by teasing her about the sinister things she might find there. What Catherine overlooks is the element of metaphorical truth in Tilney’s speech, alluding to his own family history and his own understanding of Gothic novels, as he presents details drawn directly from novels like Ancient Records and Clermont (Graham-Smith, Nowak). The hypothetical scenario that he presents of her adventures in the Abbey heightens Catherine’s fear and delight, but he cannot continue out of humor once she sees how enthralled she is. “Catherine, recollecting herself, grew ashamed of her eagerness, and began earnestly to assure him that her attention had been fixed without the smallest apprehension of really meeting with what he related” (109). Yet that shame only lasts so long, for when she gets to the Abbey and finds it kept up with modern trappings, she almost unintentionally begins to seek excitement and drama and shadows in every corner, to “to imagine herself entrapped in a world of mysterious plots and subterfuge” (Duquette); like any good campfire story, the effect of Henry’s playful tale has left a lasting effect on Catherine, one that she will gradually over exaggerate as time goes on. Perhaps this effect would have been lessened had it been told by someone else, such as John Thorpe, but Catherine’s respect for Henry’s good opinion further strengthened her belief in the truth of his speech.
This section allows for Austen to truly begin using Gothic trappings to their fullest, playing them up for atmosphere and humor. Catherine’s first night in the Abbey is characterized by a storm, the ideal setup for spooky happenings, and as she listens to it “rage round a corner of the ancient building and close with sudden fury a distant door, felt for the first time that she was really in an abbey. Yes, these were characteristic sounds; they brought to her recollection a countless variety of dreadful situations and horrid scenes, which such buildings had witnessed, and such storms ushered in; and most heartily did she rejoice in the happier circumstances attending her entrance within walls so solemn!” (114) Even her attempts to rationalize her situation – her friends are barely a few rooms away – are soon eclipsed by the tugging curiosity of the mysterious cabinet in her room, the focal point of Henry’s earlier story. Catherine works herself into a frenzy as she explores it and discovers its hidden rolled-up papers, just before she accidently extinguishes her own candle and retreats to her bed in the dark, terrifying herself. “The storm still raged, and various were the noises, more terrific even than the wind, which struck at intervals on her startled ear. The very curtains of her bed seemed at one moment in motion, and at another the lock of her door was agitated, as if by the attempt of somebody to enter. Hollow murmurs seemed to creep along the gallery, and more than once her blood was chilled by the sound of distant moans” (117).
This scene is key, both moody and comedic because it emphasizes not only the silliness of Catherine, but potentially draws the reader in with curiosity over the contents of the papers. While the reader knows better than Catherine that her find is likely something mundane – which is precisely what it turns out to be, the next morning’s revelation of the papers being merely a laundry list – there is a moment in the passage where one is drawn in by the Gothic atmosphere, either waiting for the punch line or taking delight in the relatable eeriness of the scene. Austen makes effective use of the pacing in this scene to create tension, but never allows the reader to forget that Catherine’s imagination is afire with possibility, bereft of the usual common sense after her inundation in the tropes of Gothic novels; this is the first time such a scene has been witnessed in an otherwise realistic novel, further blunting the possibility to take it at all seriously.
Again, Austen demonstrates her knowledge of individual works when presenting this humorous scene. According to Sheila Graham-Smith, various aspects of Northanger Abbey parallel T. J. Horsely Curties’ Ancient Records, or The Abbey of St. Oswythe, particularly emphasized and parodied in Catherine’s first night in the Abbey. Rosaline, the main character of Ancient Records, makes similar searches and stumbles across grotesque and haunting discoveries, while all Catherine finds is a chest of linens and forgotten laundry bills. “Austen’s substitution…of the domestic and ordinary for the ‘horrid’ is part of the comedy of Northanger Abbey, playing as it does on the segue of the novel as a form away from the Gothic and towards the novel of manners, both of which, at that point in their development, deserved a little gentle ridicule” (Graham-Smith). To those familiar with the narrative of Ancient Records, the scene can come off all the more amusing for recognition of the juxtaposition.
Yet Austen also touches upon the more contemplative aspects of the Gothic, the positive effects that scenery and mood have in evoking the sublime. Natasha Duquette explains that Austen’s defense of the Gothic is based in the contemplative sublime, and how she likewise employs this idea to her own ends when exploring the growth of Catherine’s character: “Within Austen's parody of the gothic novel, with all its satire of Burkean horror, there is a strong encouragement of readers caught in the hubbub of Bath-like distractions to find quiet moments of sublime repose, whether in a shady grove of old trees or in the stillness of a Gothic cathedral.” Catherine and Eleanor do just this the morning after the storm, finding comfort and ease in each other. “Their relationship begins with Eleanor's inclusion of Catherine in the walk to Beechen Cliff, continues with Eleanor's attention to the beauty of hyacinths, which comforts Catherine after her fearful night in the abbey, and culminates with Eleanor's shared memories of her mother during their walk through the fir grove, a shared experience of contemplative sublimity” (Duquette).
Catherine’s next imagined horror goes in a darker direction than her earlier musings, when she begins to baselessly suspect General Tilney of having brought about the death of his wife, Eleanor’s mother. While her previous Gothic delusions were silly and primarily comedic in depicting Catherine’s childlike wonder and fear, this emphasizes the danger applying too much of fiction too reality, applying her reading of books to how she reads people. She grows more and more suspicious of the General, misinterpreting his odd hours and forbiddance to visit a certain part of the abbey as examples of guilt. Only when confronted by Henry does she see her error, and understand how flawed her understanding of reality is. “The visions of romance were over. Catherine was completely awakened. Henry's address, short as it had been, had more thoroughly opened her eyes to the extravagance of her late fancies than all their several disappointments had done. Most grievously was she humbled. Most bitterly did she cry…The liberty which her imagination had dared to take with the character of his father—could he ever forgive it? The absurdity of her curiosity and her fears—could they ever be forgotten?” (136-37)
Though much of Catherine’s error in judgment is caused by her reliance upon the Gothic to narrate and translate her life, her contemplations over General Tilney’s motivations and personality is based upon the more naïve and innocent foundations of her character. The combination of her over-active imagination and the more sensible, yet innocent, side of her character allow Catherine to develop a conflicted opinion of General Tilney, and thus she falls too easily into the trap of melodrama. Brought up short in her theatricality by Henry’s loving but striking rebuke, Catherine’s eyes are opened both to her own foolishness, the nonsensical drama she has played out in her mind, and, later, General Tilney’s true character; in another Gothic subversion, the heroine is thrown into a carriage and whisked away, not to the Gothic Abbey but away from it, and still the implications of Catherine traveling on her own are frightening.
In her deep error of judgment, Catherine is redeemed, both in Henry’s eyes and in her genuine quality of character, by her gentleness and willingness to believe the best of everyone throughout the rest of the book. As Henry comments, over Catherine’s head, to Eleanor, “Prepare for your sister-in-law, Eleanor, and such a sister-in-law as you must delight in! Open, candid, artless, guileless, with affections strong but simple, forming no pretensions, and knowing no disguise.” And Eleanor, mature and wise, replies, ‘Such a sister-in-law, Henry, I should delight in” (141-42).
The value of Catherine’s character shines through the often distracting drama of her Gothic leanings, which have been stripped from her by the end of the story, whilst still retaining the imaginative and scatter-brained nature she has shown throughout the book. With all of Catherine’s love of “hollow murmurs” and “darkness impenetrable and immovable,” the Gothic that Austen has worked throughout Northanger Abbey serve primarily to illustrate and humor Catherine’s character, giving her a simple and effective character arc whilst allowing the author to offer a fond and familiar tribute to the popular culture of her day.
Austen has likewise been noted as a well-versed reader in many genres, and a believer in the ability of the novel to express art during her time. If she is not simply defending the idea of the Gothic novel in her text, then Austen clearly defines her opinion of defending novels in general. In an intriguing moment of narrative insertion, she concludes the fifth chapter of Volume I with an argument championing the practice of novel-reading. She hopes that her readers will support Catherine Morland, in that she is a heroine who enjoys reading, unlike the heroine of a different novel “who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust” (22). Despite the bad opinion of critics, the novel is a work of true skill, "in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the loveliest effusions of wit and humor are conveyed to the world" (23). Austen thus presents herself as understanding of the pleasures novel-reading brings, and that includes the merits of Romantic and Gothic novels.
Works Cited
Austen, Jane. Northanger Abbey. Ed. Susan Fraiman. New York: Norton, 2004. Print.
Duquette, Natasha. "'Motionless Wonder': Contemplating Gothic Sublimity in Northanger Abbey." Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal On-Line 30.2 (2010): MLA International Bibliography. Web. 2 Nov. 2012.
Graham-Smith, Sheila. “The Awful Memorials of an Injured and Ill-fated Nun: The Source of Catherine Morland’s Gothic Fantasy” Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal 31.(2009): 199-208. MLA International Bibliography. Web. 2 Nov. 2012.
Nowak, Tenille. "Regina Maria Roche's 'Horrid' Novel’: Echoes Of Clermont In Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey." Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal 29.(2007): 184-193. MLA International Bibliography. Web. 2 Nov. 2012.
Haunted castles, secret panels, lurking danger, dark secrets and the literary convenience of a sudden gust of wind to blow out a candle: all of these are traits and tropes of the Gothic, whose atmosphere and tactics are still utilized today to emphasize mood and heighten tension, yet are just as often the subject of knowing parody, sometimes regarded as silly, over-imaginative or ridiculous to dwell on. Both the positives and negatives of the Gothic are explored in Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey, its heroine Catherine Morland stumbling through romantic delusions and naivety as she moves from the social atmosphere of Bath to the novel’s namesake Abbey. It is here that Austen displays her understanding of the genre, and here are raised some critical questions about her intent with the Gothic parody – is it meant to be a tribute to the idioms of the Gothic, or a commentary on the frivolity of the genre?
The broader critical analysis of the novel has shifted over time from one viewpoint to the other and back again. Sometimes cited as a didactic parody to demean the Gothic narrative, to point out all the flaws and shortcomings of writers like Walpole and Radcliffe, Northanger Abbey is more akin to a loving tribute that gently pokes fun at some Gothic tropes while making effective use of others. As Natasha Duquette notes, “in recent decades, many critics have placed Austen's novels in fruitful dialogue with the work of her Romantic contemporaries. This new direction in Austen studies challenges the earlier view of Austen as a wry rationalist raising an arch eyebrow at the excesses of Romantic aesthetics.” Austen’s work proves she is indeed familiar with the genre, and a closer look at the novel’s key moments where Gothic elements are employed illustrates an understanding of the effectiveness of such narratives, while likewise planting inside jokes and references that a reader of Gothic novels at the time would understand. But more importantly, it is meaningful to look at Catherine Morland herself and understand how Austen’s use of the Gothic relates to a young reader akin to her heroine, how her own impressions are shaped by the fiction she reads and how her limited understanding and fertile imagination influence and contribute to the overall affect of the parody.
From the novel’s onset, Austen sets out to explore and subvert various aspects of the Gothic novel, giving her knowing readers a humorous understanding of things to come. The first lines of the novel say as much on their own: “No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine” (5). In a nudge to those familiar with the Gothic, who typically find a heroine rendered beautiful, intelligent and dramatically orphaned, Austen sets the stage with her naïve, plain and mundanely-birthed Catherine Morland, telling her readers that they will be getting a subverted version of the Gothic tale, Catherine herself becoming ironically enamored with the very sort of fiction her character is subverting.
For Catherine, new to the world outside of her small village and introduced to the whirl of social activity in Bath, everything has a sense of newness and wonder. Under the care of the Allens she has a chance to experience society just above her normal means, a form of escapism on one hand, and for the first time in her life is making acquaintances beyond her siblings. Inexperienced as Catherine is, it’s importanr to note how she is influenced by the two female friends she makes, Isabella Thorpe and Eleanor Tilney. The former eventually proves to be little more than a self-absorbed woman, using her friendship with Catherine as merely a distraction. And while she might genuinely care for Catherine, she cares more about her own interests and guides conversations to relate back to her own concerns. Their common connection, a love of novels, is used by Isabella to promote her favorite genre of literature: the Gothic.
Quite strikingly different is how Eleanor Tilney relates to Catherine, in a friendship that evolves and benefits both women over time. “Eleanor's loyal friendship with Catherine sets her apart from the false Isabella. “The sincere and reciprocal friendship between Eleanor and Catherine in Northanger Abbey takes Radcliffean repose to a new level. Unlike Radcliffe, Austen is able to envision a true friendship of equity and respect between two women” (Duquette). Eleanor is soft-spoken and unconcerned with the fancies that Isabella so indulges in, and Catherine as well; during their Beechen Cliff excursion, when Catherine casually mentions that she has heard “that something very shocking indeed, will soon come out of London,” Eleanor mistakes this for talk of an impending riot, while Catherine is merely speaking of an upcoming Gothic novel, to which Henry Tilney is lead to make them understand each other in a humorous moment that nevertheless foreshadows future troubles in the novel (77)
However, Catherine still finds a sense of yet further escapism, and also a familiar link to her reading habits at home, in the Gothic, aided by Isabella in discovering the joys of Anne Radcliffe’s Mysteries of Udolpho, a novel cited again and again during the course of Catherine’s journey. “Oh! I am delighted with the book,” she tells Isabella excitedly. “I should like to spend my whole life in reading it. I assure you, if it had not been to meet you, I would not have come away from it for all the world" (24). Catherine rapidly becomes a fan, Isabella both promoting and encouraging her reading novels of a purely Gothic description, feeding Catherine’s fancy; having experienced monotony for so long, coupled with all the fresh sights and affairs of Bath and her first real adult friends, Catherine is swallowed up by the simple joys of reading and discussing reading with peers.
While it is generally accepted that Austen had Radcliffe’s works in mind when writing Northanger Abbey, there is another detail here that alludes to Austen’s understanding of the broader Gothic range; a small but significant detail, brought up when Isabella lists the names of several novels that Catherine should read after Udolpho: “Castle of Wolfenbach, Clermont, Mysterious Warnings, Necromancer of the Black Forest, Midnight Bell, Orphan of the Rhine, and Horrid Mysteries” (24). Tenille Nowak, in her essay examining these novels, draws attention to the work of Michel Sadler, who brought the seven “horrid novels” referenced in Northanger Abbey to light with his own text and “concluded that Northanger Abbey parodied the Gothic genre but also subtly acknowledged its tropes and gave tribute to the talents of its writers.” Nowak herself proposes “that Austen’s selection focused not on the books’ titles or on their ability to represent particular Gothic niches, but rather on the inherent values and merits she discovered in each text.”
Yet Catherine’s growing attachment to these “horrid novels” is one of her primary faults, and Austen’s recognition of Gothic merits does not stymie her intent to show how one’s fancies can run unchecked if allowed unrestrained or unfocused reading. Much like the overly-hysterical “fangirls” of the modern-day Twilight series of books – dark romances involving the supernatural and fantastical – there were concerns at the time of overindulgence into Gothic literature. “Jane Austen was concerned that the avid readers of ghost stories might let their imaginations become carried away to the point of confusing Gothic flights of fancy with modern, prosaic reality,” and “Austen's bumbling heroine… at times misinterprets the real world due to her obsession with romantic adventure tales” (Duquette).
It is not surprising, given Catherine’s limited experience that she lets her imagination get the best of her when she engrosses herself in her reading and derives so much pleasure from only Gothic novels, and unfortunately this builds on Catherine as the novel progresses. Catherine begins to yearn for things to happen that are out of the ordinary; when she is inadvertently “abducted” by the incorrigible John Thorpe to ride out to Blaize Castle rather than let her walk with the Tilneys (making another moment of parody of the Gothic heroine kidnapped and taken in a carriage against her will), Catherine’s only comfort for the trip comes in imagining what she might find there, informed by scenes from Udolpho and others – “the happiness of a progress through a long suite of lofty rooms, exhibiting the remains of magnificent furniture, though now for many years deserted - the happiness of being stopped in their way along narrow, winding vaults, by a low, grated door; or even having their lamp, their only lamp, extinguished by a sudden gust of wind, and of being left in total darkness” (59). This, however, is just the beginning of a series of mishaps and misjudgments on Catherine’s part that both impart the message of succumbing to the whimsical mind and further the aim of the parody.
The turning point in the story, and where Catherine begins to truly fall under the influence of her own imagination, is when she leaves Bath in the company of the Tilenys, bound for Northanger Abbey. Henry Tilney, perhaps not recognizing how easily influenced Catherine’s fancies are, and how much she both trusts and respects his opinions, amuses himself by teasing her about the sinister things she might find there. What Catherine overlooks is the element of metaphorical truth in Tilney’s speech, alluding to his own family history and his own understanding of Gothic novels, as he presents details drawn directly from novels like Ancient Records and Clermont (Graham-Smith, Nowak). The hypothetical scenario that he presents of her adventures in the Abbey heightens Catherine’s fear and delight, but he cannot continue out of humor once she sees how enthralled she is. “Catherine, recollecting herself, grew ashamed of her eagerness, and began earnestly to assure him that her attention had been fixed without the smallest apprehension of really meeting with what he related” (109). Yet that shame only lasts so long, for when she gets to the Abbey and finds it kept up with modern trappings, she almost unintentionally begins to seek excitement and drama and shadows in every corner, to “to imagine herself entrapped in a world of mysterious plots and subterfuge” (Duquette); like any good campfire story, the effect of Henry’s playful tale has left a lasting effect on Catherine, one that she will gradually over exaggerate as time goes on. Perhaps this effect would have been lessened had it been told by someone else, such as John Thorpe, but Catherine’s respect for Henry’s good opinion further strengthened her belief in the truth of his speech.
This section allows for Austen to truly begin using Gothic trappings to their fullest, playing them up for atmosphere and humor. Catherine’s first night in the Abbey is characterized by a storm, the ideal setup for spooky happenings, and as she listens to it “rage round a corner of the ancient building and close with sudden fury a distant door, felt for the first time that she was really in an abbey. Yes, these were characteristic sounds; they brought to her recollection a countless variety of dreadful situations and horrid scenes, which such buildings had witnessed, and such storms ushered in; and most heartily did she rejoice in the happier circumstances attending her entrance within walls so solemn!” (114) Even her attempts to rationalize her situation – her friends are barely a few rooms away – are soon eclipsed by the tugging curiosity of the mysterious cabinet in her room, the focal point of Henry’s earlier story. Catherine works herself into a frenzy as she explores it and discovers its hidden rolled-up papers, just before she accidently extinguishes her own candle and retreats to her bed in the dark, terrifying herself. “The storm still raged, and various were the noises, more terrific even than the wind, which struck at intervals on her startled ear. The very curtains of her bed seemed at one moment in motion, and at another the lock of her door was agitated, as if by the attempt of somebody to enter. Hollow murmurs seemed to creep along the gallery, and more than once her blood was chilled by the sound of distant moans” (117).
This scene is key, both moody and comedic because it emphasizes not only the silliness of Catherine, but potentially draws the reader in with curiosity over the contents of the papers. While the reader knows better than Catherine that her find is likely something mundane – which is precisely what it turns out to be, the next morning’s revelation of the papers being merely a laundry list – there is a moment in the passage where one is drawn in by the Gothic atmosphere, either waiting for the punch line or taking delight in the relatable eeriness of the scene. Austen makes effective use of the pacing in this scene to create tension, but never allows the reader to forget that Catherine’s imagination is afire with possibility, bereft of the usual common sense after her inundation in the tropes of Gothic novels; this is the first time such a scene has been witnessed in an otherwise realistic novel, further blunting the possibility to take it at all seriously.
Again, Austen demonstrates her knowledge of individual works when presenting this humorous scene. According to Sheila Graham-Smith, various aspects of Northanger Abbey parallel T. J. Horsely Curties’ Ancient Records, or The Abbey of St. Oswythe, particularly emphasized and parodied in Catherine’s first night in the Abbey. Rosaline, the main character of Ancient Records, makes similar searches and stumbles across grotesque and haunting discoveries, while all Catherine finds is a chest of linens and forgotten laundry bills. “Austen’s substitution…of the domestic and ordinary for the ‘horrid’ is part of the comedy of Northanger Abbey, playing as it does on the segue of the novel as a form away from the Gothic and towards the novel of manners, both of which, at that point in their development, deserved a little gentle ridicule” (Graham-Smith). To those familiar with the narrative of Ancient Records, the scene can come off all the more amusing for recognition of the juxtaposition.
Yet Austen also touches upon the more contemplative aspects of the Gothic, the positive effects that scenery and mood have in evoking the sublime. Natasha Duquette explains that Austen’s defense of the Gothic is based in the contemplative sublime, and how she likewise employs this idea to her own ends when exploring the growth of Catherine’s character: “Within Austen's parody of the gothic novel, with all its satire of Burkean horror, there is a strong encouragement of readers caught in the hubbub of Bath-like distractions to find quiet moments of sublime repose, whether in a shady grove of old trees or in the stillness of a Gothic cathedral.” Catherine and Eleanor do just this the morning after the storm, finding comfort and ease in each other. “Their relationship begins with Eleanor's inclusion of Catherine in the walk to Beechen Cliff, continues with Eleanor's attention to the beauty of hyacinths, which comforts Catherine after her fearful night in the abbey, and culminates with Eleanor's shared memories of her mother during their walk through the fir grove, a shared experience of contemplative sublimity” (Duquette).
Catherine’s next imagined horror goes in a darker direction than her earlier musings, when she begins to baselessly suspect General Tilney of having brought about the death of his wife, Eleanor’s mother. While her previous Gothic delusions were silly and primarily comedic in depicting Catherine’s childlike wonder and fear, this emphasizes the danger applying too much of fiction too reality, applying her reading of books to how she reads people. She grows more and more suspicious of the General, misinterpreting his odd hours and forbiddance to visit a certain part of the abbey as examples of guilt. Only when confronted by Henry does she see her error, and understand how flawed her understanding of reality is. “The visions of romance were over. Catherine was completely awakened. Henry's address, short as it had been, had more thoroughly opened her eyes to the extravagance of her late fancies than all their several disappointments had done. Most grievously was she humbled. Most bitterly did she cry…The liberty which her imagination had dared to take with the character of his father—could he ever forgive it? The absurdity of her curiosity and her fears—could they ever be forgotten?” (136-37)
Though much of Catherine’s error in judgment is caused by her reliance upon the Gothic to narrate and translate her life, her contemplations over General Tilney’s motivations and personality is based upon the more naïve and innocent foundations of her character. The combination of her over-active imagination and the more sensible, yet innocent, side of her character allow Catherine to develop a conflicted opinion of General Tilney, and thus she falls too easily into the trap of melodrama. Brought up short in her theatricality by Henry’s loving but striking rebuke, Catherine’s eyes are opened both to her own foolishness, the nonsensical drama she has played out in her mind, and, later, General Tilney’s true character; in another Gothic subversion, the heroine is thrown into a carriage and whisked away, not to the Gothic Abbey but away from it, and still the implications of Catherine traveling on her own are frightening.
In her deep error of judgment, Catherine is redeemed, both in Henry’s eyes and in her genuine quality of character, by her gentleness and willingness to believe the best of everyone throughout the rest of the book. As Henry comments, over Catherine’s head, to Eleanor, “Prepare for your sister-in-law, Eleanor, and such a sister-in-law as you must delight in! Open, candid, artless, guileless, with affections strong but simple, forming no pretensions, and knowing no disguise.” And Eleanor, mature and wise, replies, ‘Such a sister-in-law, Henry, I should delight in” (141-42).
The value of Catherine’s character shines through the often distracting drama of her Gothic leanings, which have been stripped from her by the end of the story, whilst still retaining the imaginative and scatter-brained nature she has shown throughout the book. With all of Catherine’s love of “hollow murmurs” and “darkness impenetrable and immovable,” the Gothic that Austen has worked throughout Northanger Abbey serve primarily to illustrate and humor Catherine’s character, giving her a simple and effective character arc whilst allowing the author to offer a fond and familiar tribute to the popular culture of her day.
Austen has likewise been noted as a well-versed reader in many genres, and a believer in the ability of the novel to express art during her time. If she is not simply defending the idea of the Gothic novel in her text, then Austen clearly defines her opinion of defending novels in general. In an intriguing moment of narrative insertion, she concludes the fifth chapter of Volume I with an argument championing the practice of novel-reading. She hopes that her readers will support Catherine Morland, in that she is a heroine who enjoys reading, unlike the heroine of a different novel “who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust” (22). Despite the bad opinion of critics, the novel is a work of true skill, "in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the loveliest effusions of wit and humor are conveyed to the world" (23). Austen thus presents herself as understanding of the pleasures novel-reading brings, and that includes the merits of Romantic and Gothic novels.
Works Cited
Austen, Jane. Northanger Abbey. Ed. Susan Fraiman. New York: Norton, 2004. Print.
Duquette, Natasha. "'Motionless Wonder': Contemplating Gothic Sublimity in Northanger Abbey." Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal On-Line 30.2 (2010): MLA International Bibliography. Web. 2 Nov. 2012.
Graham-Smith, Sheila. “The Awful Memorials of an Injured and Ill-fated Nun: The Source of Catherine Morland’s Gothic Fantasy” Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal 31.(2009): 199-208. MLA International Bibliography. Web. 2 Nov. 2012.
Nowak, Tenille. "Regina Maria Roche's 'Horrid' Novel’: Echoes Of Clermont In Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey." Persuasions: The Jane Austen Journal 29.(2007): 184-193. MLA International Bibliography. Web. 2 Nov. 2012.